


And in Health

by Hyacinthium



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Feeding Kink, Finger Sucking, Gross, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Feeding, M/M, No Sex, Power Dynamics, Sickfic, Some Humor, illness kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 06:44:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18405269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyacinthium/pseuds/Hyacinthium
Summary: Kokichi is sick near the very tail end of high school. Being that they're dating, Shuichi decides to take care of him and finds himself being... Well, Kokichi likes to call him 'manslave' once in a while. But it's really not a bother. In fact, Shuichi actually kind of enjoys taking care of him.He might enjoy it a little bit too much.





	And in Health

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovingdefiance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovingdefiance/gifts).



> HEY SO THIS DOES GET KINDA GROSS AND A BIT GRAPHIC WITH MUCUS AND PHLEGM BUT LIKE... Don't worry. It's nothing like sucking the snot out of someone. We aren't booger vampires here. Just the threat of the yucky touching a hand. Yeah. I mean. I. Hhhhhh hhhhhh. 
> 
> So I was chatting with a friend, about kink memes, and there was this mention of... Sickness Kink? I immediately went and just. What. Huh. Oh my. Huuuuh? 
> 
> And now this exists. 
> 
> Because if you don't understand something then you gotta. 
> 
> Also. I am ill yet feeling good about my appearance for the first time in years. And thus I'm. I must.

Shuichi may have a problem. It starts, of course, with Ouma Kokichi. More specifically would be that it starts with a sneeze. A small and inoffensive sneeze that makes Shuichi blink at how kitten light it is. From there it evolves is Kokichi sniffling and grumbling. Even further onwards too- by the end of that day there's little denying it. 

Ouma Kokichi is obviously ill and miserable by the second day.

Today is the third day of the sudden cold, and Shuichi is being a doting boyfriend. He has taken care of the other boy's needs. Not a single thing has been left to chance. Soup, tissues, lozenges and tea; Shuichi has even bought a whole bag of blood oranges. They're apparently more interesting than the regular kind. Kokichi enjoys them at the very least. 

The other boy sure does bite viciously for someone so cute, Shuichi thinks while watching his boyfriend eat. 

"Mmmm... Three shakes of red pepper flakes, and two grinds of black pepper, really does make chicken noodle soup taste better. It's almost like my nose isn't stuffed full of gunk! Maybe I'll be healthy in time for graduation," Kokichi sarcastically cheers.

A grunt later and Kokichi is rubbing circles at his puffy eyelids, excess moisture escaping while he does so. He groans and huffs before blowing swift gusts of hair out of his nose. Then he experimentally inhales with his mouth closed. Something of a thoughtful look crosses his face. 

Kokichi turns towards the Detective and holds out a hand.

Immediately, Shuichi grabs a tissue from his school bag and gives it to his boyfriend. 

Pale and fast, Kokichi seems to flicker when he grabs the tissue. He just as swiftly brings the thing to his nose, covering his mouth, and blows outward so harshly that... Well, it sounds almost like an elephant. Or some other loud noise let out by an animal. The sound disturbs the otherwise calm atmosphere of Kokichi's bedroom. 

Which bring a question to Shuichi’s lips. He knows that it's a somewhat rude one, but the boy still asks, “Why did you decide to stay in bed today and not before?”

Kokichi looks at him with one watery eye and one left untouched by illness. The other Ultimate hums and looks down at his blanket. For a moment it almost seems like Kokichi will answer. A sense of thoughtfulness washes over his face, invades his body language, and fills his glassy eyes. 

“Green Tea Pocky!” the Ultimate Supreme Leader says instead. 

Sighing, Shuichi reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a green box from the pale wood. He momentarily eyes the painted scribbles upon said table. Then the boy turns away and quickly pulls one of the biscuit sticks from its confines. It's different from the kind that Shuichi sees in most stores. Being homemade, the treats have a certain thickness in both coating and biscuit size that others do not.

Chunks of white chocolate and delicate pink sprinkles adorn the one that Shuichi presents. Kokichi merely looks at it, smiles, and opens his mouth.

"Aaaah~mmph," the boy giggles when the matcha coated end hits his bottom lip. Kokichi's eyes betray his status as ill, and yet... 

The boy has a glow to him. Shuichi can't fathom how or why, but even the irritated redness of his boyfriend's nose is cute. A scratchiness and a deepness to his voice that can't be called unflattering. Even his hair looks fluffy, if only due to a lack of styling gel, and everything about it is throwing the Detective off. People are supposed to be gross when they're sick. Ill people aren't allowed to look alluring.

Pink and soft from constantly drinking tea, sucking on various lozenges and herbal drops, and various other activities; Kokichi's lips conceal his teeth from view as he bites away. He slowly consumes the innocent Pocky stick with all the laziness of a certain other Ultimate. At one point however, he stops and looks up at Shuichi. 

Let it never be said that Ouma Kokichi is fair.

It takes less than a second for Shuichi to give in. He's developing an unfortunate weakness for those rare and quiet looks that are like this. Kokichi with a hopeful yet vulnerable expression is like a bullet. Piercing through to some primitive part of the Detective's brain, and demanding obedience.

Of course, Saihara Shuichi isn't exactly interested in perfect fairness.

His fingers push the Pocky stick ever so slightly forward. A crunch reverberates down the length, once and then twice, so subtle that Shuichi is almost shocked. But he can hear the tiny bites and can see each movement of Kokichi's jaw. Something about it makes the boy fidget. Gulping, Shuichi watches as the biscuit stick slowly vanishes into Kokichi's mouth- heart rate picking up as his fingers grow closer and closer.

Just before touching those damp lips- Shuichi releases the Pocky and watches Kokichi slurp it into his mouth. The boy can't look away and can't help but hear the faint sounds of chewing. Shuichi clears his throat and looks down at the white and gray blanket on Kokichi's bed. He spots the now discarded soup on its tray and sighs. 

White, with faint lines that turn it into a milk puzzle design. It was set in stone the moment that he saw it. Having already bought a milk puzzle for a gift, and knowing that Kokichi constantly complains about the impersonal decor in the rooms, Shuichi git it on impulse. Gift giving is simply in his nature.

"Man, just imagine if there were Wasabi Pockies! Pocky? Oh who cares," Kokichi says after smacking his lips. "I'd have clear sinuses and a perfect prank ready to be planted!" 

Nervously laughing in agreement, Shuichi prays that his boyfriend won't notice that he's flustered.

"Wooow... Did my beloved like getting to shove that long. Delicious. Long thing down my mouth?" the other boy slyly asks, snorting at the end and making a face at it. 

"Twissue!"

It sounds like Kokichi's nose is a car engine trying to start this time. Shuichi winces when he spots a particularly large glob of- Oh dear. The boy looks away again in order to provide privacy. Honestly, he's surprised that Kokichi is allowing him to see such vulnerability. Except for the 'man slave' element that the Ultimate Supreme Leader kept pressing at first. That wasn't surprising in the least. 

Actually, what's surprising is how the other boy is still adorable even like that. It makes no sense in Shuichi’s mind. By all means, he should think that Kokichi is gross or pathetic looking. 

But as he watches a lotion infused tissue wipe away all hints of snot- Kokichi is still oddly alluring. 

He really does miss being able to kiss. 

Then there's a loud and sudden sort of cough. One that comes with Kokichi cringing, his throat growling wetly while it's muscles go to work. He soon tries to use the now folded tissue to obscure his mouth. But it's to no avail- and Shuichi’s scrambling doesn't quite help. Getting a tissue ready results in the box falling from his bag and to the floor. Shuichi gapes at the sight and looks at the one in his hand, though he soon turns to help his boyfriend. 

"Khuhhhh... kkg-kkugkulhk!" 

Only to see a thick thing of white phlegm fly out of Kokichi's mouth. The mucous mostly hits the tissue. Some of it, unfortunately, does land close to Kokichi's fingers. Precariously close and for some reason- the tissue in the Detective's hands is quickly given over. 

Gritting his teeth and groaning, Kokichi sneers, "I can't believe that my own body is betraying me! I'm going to guillotine it and get a new one, ugh. This is soooo gross!" 

Shuichi finds something about the Kokichi before him to be arousing. He doesn't understand what or how or why. Only that the Kokichi is cute, and his symptoms aren't as disgusting as they should be. The boy watches as both tissues are bundled up and thrown away by pale fingers. Nothing about it is logical at all and oh God I'm gross aren't I, Shuichi’s mind hisses.

Fingers and hands grab onto a sky blue box. They hold it up before placing it back onto a cedar colored nightstand, Shuichi’s lips a thin line as he surveys the surface. Covered with lozenges, all gentle and honey lemon flavored, and with various additional items like medicines. 

Expectorants, decongestants, antihistamines; Kokichi's little list of things to get goes all out. 

Now there's a strange feeling to it all. Shuichi taking care of his boyfriend doesn't have an ulterior element to it. At least, he only just became aware of his... 

Possible kink. Fetish?

Kokichi grumbles and soon retrieves a tissue all on his own, softly blowing into it and then sniffling afterwards. He looks almost as miserable as he did the first two days. It makes Shuichi's heart clench, but then there's still that cuteness. The Detective settles back into his seat and tries to think. 

Could it be the vulnerability? The lure of getting to care for someone? Being needed? Of course, that doesn't cover the inexplicable liking of the actual illness. Shuichi’s right hand finds itself holding onto his chin.

"Hey, what's wrong with you? Is Shumai planing on finally getting his friend to assassinate me?" comes something that instantly breaks through the imminent brooding. Shuichi’s eyes dart to find a smug grin. It sends a child down his spine as Kokichi speaks, "Or maybe Saihara-chan is realizing that he really is my manslave?!"

"That's not it at all Ouma-kun!" Shuichi blurts out. Embarrassment shoots through him, and the boy squirms in his seat. 

Being able to outright say what he's thinking isn't a problem. Entirely because he won't. Shuichi can't imagine how his boyfriend can simply say whatever he wants like this. Although, the Detective knows by now that Kokichi still keeps so much close to his chest too. He wants to be the one that hears those thoughts. It's a sentiment that the other boy occasionally puts into words. 

"Saihara-chan can tell me aaaanything at anytime. I'm not going anywhere while spitting up gunk. That's why you're here!" Kokichi hums, kicking his feet as if to prove Shuichi’s feelings.

It makes the boy chuckle lowly. He fidgets again and tries to gather himself. Vulnerability doesn't quite cover what Shuichi is being drawn to. No, the neediness and being depended on factors can't explain why there's a liking for specific things like... That stuff. Mucous is not an inherently understandable thing to be drawn to. Shuichi likes to think that he's good at sussing out underlying causes when it comes to these things. 

Which leaves behind the flaw in his theorizing.

Gulping, Shuichi closes his eyes and tries to imagine acting on one of his odd urges. Reaching out and carefully wiping at Kokichi's watery eyes, providing relief, except for how he's allowing himself to- to not use a tissue. Merely his finger caressing and rubbing at a patience filled... 

"Oh dear," the boy mutters, ears turning red as his mind drums up the idea of hot tear-like moisture against his bare skin.

A single glance at Kokichi reveals a calmer smile. Knowing- that's how the Ultimate Supreme Leader looks now. Shuichi’s palms grow itchy as his back prickles. There's just no logical explanation for Kokichi's possible knowing. Zero at all, and yet Shuichi’s mind readily accepts that his boyfriend could tell before him. 

"Does my beloved have something to tell me?" the boy impishly asks. 

Shuichi swallows the lump in his throat and shakes his head. There's nothing in the world that can make him outright say it. Not in the slightest, and the Detective knows that he's wrong. Kokichi's sly insinuations can definitely be persuasive.

Minutes full of silence seem to pass. Purple eyes dig painful holes into Shuichi's own, there's no end to it. It feels like forever is happening.

"I think that I need a tissue, Saihara-chan," Kokichi murmurs. His eyes glitter as they watch Shuichi’s hands leap into action. 

One tissue is ripped from its box, the fingers holding it fumbling, and yet it receives nothing but a curious apathy when presented. Shuichi’s mouth drops open while his fellow Ultimate does nothing. His mind twirls around and around at the implication, at the idea of Kokichi wanting him to do what he must be asking. It seems outlandish despite how Shuichi’s body is moving without him.

Leering is the only way that Shuichi can describe the expression levied at him. Even as he gently covers Kokichi's nose, pale fingers touching reddened skin, there's a leer. Not a judging sneer by any means of course. Yet the fact remains that Kokichi can telling exactly why the Detective's breathing hitches.

There's a moment in which Shuichi wonders, what if I get sick? 

And then Kokichi is forcing air out through his nose. That's all he's doing- eyes clenched tightly together as his efforts dislodge mucus. For a few seconds the boy stops to catch his breath. Shuichi himself inhales deeply while his fingers tingle. The feeling of Kokichi doing this, of him doing this, is gratifying. 

Heat simmers inside of the boy's belly. If he gets sick then Kokichi would certainly make a production out of it.

Getting sick from his boyfriend's germs shouldn't be so… 

Kokichi blows again with an even stronger force. First a brief one with a promising sound, and then a much longer attempt that brings with it results. It causes the soft tissue to flutter violently between them. As such, Shuichi’s fingers press down on the bridge of Kokichi's nose. The Detective's mouth soon grows dry when the other boy opens his eyes. 

Mischief haunts Shuichi as he pulls the tissue away and quickly folds the soiled parts into obscurity. Eyes dance from place to place as well, Kokichi looking pensive and messy, the sight being that same odd but nice as before. He just as swiftly spots remnants and wipes them all away, voice stolen. 

“You're a strange one after all, Shumai. But that's great! Everyone in my organization has at least one weird kink. Saihara-chan should join his evil brethren,” the boy chirps. 

Nervous fingers toss the freshly dirtied tissue away. 

“I don't have a thing for this! I- I just don't,” but they can both tell that it's a weak protest. Shuichi grabs lavender scented hand sanitizer, thinking to purge both germs and his metaphorical sins. “Look, Ouma-kun should just sit back and let me take care of him. Not that y-you… ah.”

Gold drifts over and stares into calm purple. 

One of the Ultimate Supreme Leader's hands reaches out to Shuichi’s own. It's delicate, soft, and yet sturdy fingers are gentle. Shuichi can still barely believe that Kokichi has such beautiful hands. He can however believe the boasts that the other boy hasn't done a day of hard labor. Not once in his life, if the line is being remembered correctly. Kokichi's hands certainly feel that way as they explore. 

Running down Shuichi’s own fingers, rubbing into his joints and trailing down his palm. As though Kokichi is ruminating on something important. The expression on his face is certainly warm and thoughtful. 

Pink lips press into Shuichi's knuckles before he even knows what to say. 

Words are soon wisping across his skin, just as warm as the hands holding his own, “I wonder how my darling would feel about his cute little normy kink happening, huh?”

“Th-that's not fair,” Shuichi hisses. 

But he's too late, and Kokichi's tongue is already tracing the tip of a fingernail. Index finger. Left hand. It should be repulsive instead of causing Shuichi to stir. Kokichi will absolutely get him sick at this rate. The mystery of how he hasn't yet will be ruined, it's inevitable, and their roles will reverse. Shuichi’s hands twitch as the one left free grips at his pants. 

Inevitability. The Detective shudders as saliva drips onto his hand. Red, the tongue caressing him glistens in lamplight. Kokichi giggles wetly before lapping against the rest of his fingertips in one swipe. 

“Nnnguh-”

Heat rushes to pale cheeks and Shuichi futilely clenches his legs shut. All that does is make him open them while groaning. To have even a semi-hardon is just so humiliating. Shuichi whimpers at the thought of how Kokichi is so flagrantly disregarding how things should be. When ill there's always the pressing need for courtesy, to not spread it. But now that sentiment is nowhere. 

Kokichi is going to get him sick and nothing can be done about it. 

Shuichi’s fingers steadily enter that hot mouth. His breathing grows heavy when teeth skim across his knuckles. Of course he loves Kokichi's mouth, he loves most of Kokichi's entirety by now, and of course- the Detective has a love for hands as well. The way that Kokichi's fingers gingerly slide down to his wrist is like art. Indeed, just sitting and watching pink lips wrap around index and middle finger is grand. Always is. 

Except that now there's a third layer to the excitement. One that both if them know by now. Getting sick is a thought that Shuichi seems to like. He's growing to understand it too. Powerlessness is a state that many find arousing. Like this, here, Shuichi is powerless to stop Kokichi from getting him sick. 

“Hnngh… shaiharachann,” Kokichi murmurs while opening his mouth, eyes flicking up towards his boyfriend's face. The Ultimate grins lopsidedly and pulls away. Trails of drool break as they fall. “My my, my! I can at least see that little Shumai is happy to see my germ infested maw!”

A loud wheeze escapes Shuichi’s lips, “You aren't germ infested!”

“Oh au-contraire my dear dumpling! I'm absolutely diseased by the common cold, and you find that a bit spicy.”

“Nn-”

Purple and skittering shadows, a smirk. There are little words for Kokichi's body language let alone the energy within his eyes. Among the most accurate descriptions would be: wanton or sinister. It lands like a punch into Shuichi's solar plexus. Of all the things to pull him in closer too, considering how hard it's been to avoid kissing. 

There's a needy twitch under two layers of fabric. Humiliation courses through Shuichi’s veins as he groans. 

“I think that you're cute!” Shuichi hisses, fingers feeling how a grin spreads across that face. “You're sick, but somehow it just makes you look gorgeous? Ouma-kun's neediness is sweet and the fact that he might make me sick has me, ah, thinking gross things.”

“While hard? No, don't answer… I can see that already, niishishiii!” the other boy replies. 

Mere seconds pass before Kokichi stops giving off his mysterious yet gleeful aura. 

“I should just cough up all the stuff congesting in me and watch you cream yourself over it. Saihara-chan is the exact kind of gross fuck that would get off on it. He'd see my disgusting throat snot, all over his hand, and cum instantly. Almost like idiot seeing edgy hentai for the first time.”

Another hit of arousal crashes down on the Detective. He can almost tell how his pupils must dilate. The shame and the whining bit of him that wants to resist jump into a crescendo. Yet the boy can't resist the truth. Shuichi doesn't even want to, all he can imagine is the sight that Kokichi offers. Thick but fluid phlegm slowly drooling past those lips, kept easy to pass via medicines, hitting his hand. Running down. Warm. 

Should Kokichi do such a thing then Shuichi will surely fall ill. There would be no doubts about it, the other boy would have inflicted such a thing with no consideration. Inevitable and unavoidable. Nothing that Shuichi can do about it. 

One cough is all it will take. 

Giggling, Kokichi slurps at the fingers surrendered to him. He lavishes unsaid praise onto the slight writers bump of Shuichi’s middle finger. Plants a big wet kiss on the Detective's pinkie. Envelops a twitching thumb before sucking as loudly as possible. So much attention with not a hint of reservation from the boy. 

Whimpers fill the air while Kokichi's affection continues. 

Up until the Ultimate Supreme Leader pauses his efforts and spreads each of Shuichi’s fingers apart. The boy breathes unsteadily, watching his hand tremble. Kokichi's mouth closes right before he begins that familiar cough, throating growling while it's contents seething. Shuichi’s heart stutters, skips, and races while a sense of lightheadedness assaults him. 

“Please…” the boy murmurs hesitantly. 

Kokichi's throat seems to clear as he continues to cough, wet sounds marking a sudden dislodging. Dizzying, it's like that- to see those pink lips part and watch that tongue poke out. 

Humming haunts Shuichi’s ears as saliva eventually runs down the strong muscle. It's tip is curling upwards as if to mock him. Kokichi himself seems languid in his bed, smug as his feather soft hair falls around his face. Soon a large glob of phlegm reveals itself, making Shuichi’s pants grow even tighter. The thought crosses his mind; if that touches him then he'll definitely get sick. Or perhaps it would be more likely if he-

The spit and mucus inches down towards the end of Kokichi's tongue. Slowly, teasingly, it catches and lingers there. Soon gravity beckons it lower-

Racing pulse and painfully tight pants make Shuichi groan. He's going to get sick and it'll all be from Kokichi's germs-

“Sowwy I lied!” Kokichi abruptly says right before slurping back up his dangerous fluids. “Mmm not ready to take care of Shwumai when he's swick yet!”

Vertigo and an almost relieved disappointment fill the boy up. 

“Gimme a moment and ‘ll deepthwroat you~!”

The Detective wheezes right as he gets to see Kokichi's mix of spit and phlegm get spat out onto a hastily grabbed tissue. Shuichi’s golden eyes stare momentarily at the healthy color of it. Mostly clear with no yellow, which is good as it… Well, at least the boy isn't totally obsessed with his new kink. 

Clearing his throat again, Kokichi claps his hands and silently points at Shuichi’s large tent. 

“Right! R-right- ah,” the boy sighs and wonders just what exactly tipped his boyfriend off. Not that he's really complaining about it in the end. Although, “Ouma-kun probably shouldn't push himself, actually? You are sick after all. I'll just… take care of myself in the bathroom!”

Kokichi stares. 

Sighing, the other boy's lips twitch in a way that betrays a repressed smile. He laughs something clear and even bell-like, “Saihara-chan must like edging and orgasm denial too. Fine! I understand how it is, but my beloved better finish quickly. As the evil leader of the couple I demand that h-hhhhkkk!”

“Ah! Don't hold back your coughing, Ouma-kun!”

“hhhhggk”

“Have a tissue?!”

**Author's Note:**

> So that's. Yeah.
> 
> Goodnight.


End file.
